


An Unexpected Love

by Mawgon



Series: Dwarves care for consent - Series [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dwarves Have Manners, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dwarf Courting, Dwarf Culture & Customs, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:15:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3982879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mawgon/pseuds/Mawgon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A warrior can have no fame if no one tells of his deeds, and Dwalin has always been aware of that. When he meets Ori, he pays him the respect a writer is due. Respect, however, slowly becomes love, and when the Company of Thorin Oakenshield has settled down in Erebor, Dwalin feels himself unable to do anything about his attraction to the gentle scribe - after all, why would Ori want him, a mere fighter? </p><p>Unlike the older dwarves, Ori spent much time talking to Men, and suspects that, while the ancient dwarven texts mention homosexuality as a matter of fact, it is now frowned upon, as it is among Men. Which is why the exact extent of his admiration for Dwalin must be kept a secret.   He also heard some rumours of what two males being intimate involves, and while he is no coward, Kíli's stories about pain and blood do make him a bit anxious. Kíli has no experience of his own, but he sounds so certain, he must be right, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hobbit Kink Meme prompt "Any/Kili or Ori massive first time anxieties" ( http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3393.html?thread=5433665#t5433665 ). 
> 
> Most of my Hobbit Kink Meme stories are closely tied together. This one takes place in the same AU where Fíli and Bofur get involved with human women, and Kíli never got involved with Tauriel, because, let's face it, talking about the content of one's trousers is a bad pick-up line for human women, I can't imagine an elf would fall for it.

Dwalin was not sure exactly when he had started to see something more than a friend in Ori. It must have happened somewhen after the incident with the trolls. Ori had not only written what had happened. No. He had worked it into ... what was it called? Metre? It was like rhyme, only better, and it made the experience shine in a glorious, heroic light, where it actually had been disgusting and humiliating.  
Someone – was it Dori? – had talked Ori into reading it out aloud, and Dwalin had fallen in love. 

At first, he had thought it was just his usual admiration for fine art that caused him to wish to hear Ori’s voice again.  
That was what he had told himself, over and over, and then they had come to Rivendell, and while the elves had fine music and poetry, all of that was nowhere as utterly fascinating as ... Ori. 

He had told himself that it would be foolish to start courting during their journey. After all, if he was rejected, that would make things awkward between them, with no place to retire and lick his wounds. 

Still, after another reading of the ballad Ori was turning their adventure into, Dwalin had started to look for a courting gift. It probably meant nothing that Ori had exaggerated his role in the latest fight a bit. There was only the gleaming of axes described, not Dwalins beard or something like that.  
And yet, it warmed his heart to think that Ori had watched him, even in the heat of battle, and remembered well enough to write it down. 

It was a lucky coincidence that, the evening after Dwalin had found a proper gift, Ori was one of the first to fall asleep. Among those who still sat around the campfire, conversation turned towards their hopes for the future. 

After some talk about Gloin and Bombur’s respective wives and children, and the hope to see them again, Bofur had said “Now, now, we’ve heard enough. If you talk some more, we’ll all be green with envy.” He had then cleared his throat. “Me, at the very least. What about you Dwalin? You managed to catch the eye of a woman?”

“Nah. Not interested in women, anyway.” It was a good thing that Ori wasn’t awake, or his voice would certainly have failed him. 

“Oh, you are one of those lucky bastards then.” Bofur nodded. “Life isn’t fair. Would be much more convenient for me to have no desire of female company.” He sighed, and for a moment, Dwalin thought he saw sadness on the face of the most cheerful dwarf in the company. The moment passed, however, and Bofur was back at cracking jokes about how, as only about one in three males found a wife, Bombur being married meant that his family already had gotten their share of women and he could hardly expect that luck would favour him. 

After he had managed to evade one of Bofur’s questions – whether Dwalin had a special friend back in Ered Luin – by answering truthfully that this was not the case, he decided to go to sleep before Bofur asked even more indiscrete questions, like whether there was anyone in the company he ... liked. 

 

After they had settled in Erebor, and Dís had come to live there, the first woman to return, Dwalin had often played with the pebble in his pocket, hoping for Ori to make a move, and considering to make one himself. Maybe. 

Then, however, he had overheard a conversation between the younger dwarves, wherein Kíli had admitted to finding human women quite attractive. Fíli had argued that they were too tall and slender for his liking, and when they had asked Ori his opinion, he had mumbled something about preferring dwarves, on account of the beards, and blushed. 

Dwalin was pretty sure, then, that Ori had a crush on Dís. She was considered a beauty, and even Dwalin had to admit that her beard was magnificent. It must flatter Ori that she had chosen him to help her with restoring the embroidered tapestries, and it was only natural, Dwalin supposed, to admire such a woman. 

 

Things being as they were, Dwalin was content to every once in a while be treated to some of Ori’s poetry and, in the meantime, be able to enjoy his company, even if there was more distance between them at mealtimes, now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend reading my story "Girls just want to have fun" before this, as the plots touch. On the other hand, you already know where this is heading, so maybe it doesn't matter.

After Fíli had married a human woman – albeit a small, round one – other humans visited more often, and some time after the birth of the first child, there was another woman who regularly came to the mountain. 

Dwalin tried to stay out of her way, he disliked strangers. However, he also tried to be close to Ori, and so could not flee in time when the woman suddenly approached him. 

She informed him that Ori had told her she should take Dwalin into consideration as potential suitor. 

He did his best to answer her politely, even though he could hardly think of anything but what she had said about Ori. 

Ori thought him worthy! 

And, apparently, Ori had not known that Dwalin had no wish to compete for the affections of a woman. Well, now he knew.   
Which, of course, meant nothing. If Ori had wanted him, he would have asked about it. Not, perhaps, Dwalin himself; but he would have asked someone. 

The woman talked to Ori, and then went outside with him, upon which Dwalin also left the hall. 

Only in the evening did he return, to listen to the music. Dwalin had always admired Thorin’s ability to play the harp, and even though the hall was much too full of dwarves in his opinion, the music helped him forget that. 

He was wholly unprepared when Ori walked up to him, and ... offered him a pebble of black marble. A courting gift! 

Blood rushed in his ears. His hands trembled. Dwalin didn’t know what to say, and doubted he could have said something even had he known what. 

Taking the gift, he stared at it, trying to make sense of everything. He so wished Ori would not have done this in so public a place. Everyone could see them, everyone could witness how inadequate his reaction was. 

And yet, he had to admire Ori’s bravery. Walking up to him, just like that, in front of everyone, facing the danger of rejection ... not that there was any danger, of course, but not even such a fine dwarf as Ori could be completely sure of that. 

Slowly, Dwalin realized what this meant. Ori walked away in the meantime, but his gift remained. Warmth washed through Dwalin’s body. Ori liked him! Maybe loved him even! 

This called for an immediate response. Dwalin carefully placed the gift in his pocket, and took the stone out of it that he had long ago selected to give to Ori. 

He walked over to Ori, who obligingly held out his hand. Dwalin pressed the pebble into his palm and closed his fingers around it before Ori could look at it. Hopefully, he would only do so in the privacy of his own room. 

And indeed, shortly after Dwalin had fled, he saw Ori walk out of the room. With the human woman. 

Dwalin did not often seek the company of others, but now he did. Maybe Bofur would be able to make a joke about it. Bofur managed to turn everything into a joke. 

When he sat down opposite Bofur, the other dwarf looked up. “Quite a surprise, isn’t it?”

“Aye?” Were they talking about Ori?

“I didn’t know Ori had taken a liking to you. Obviously. Wouldn’t have suggested him to Tess if I had.”

“Aye.” If he had known that Ori liked him ... but there had never been any sign of it ...

“Now, I obviously do hope she chooses me, but with Ori as competition ... Tess doesn’t seem too interested in the past and the future, but still ... a writer is always ...”

“Aye.” A writer could change things that had happened, could decide whose memory lived on and whose didn’t ... he could even create worlds of his own. Which was a very attractive ability. The thought, alone, of Ori composing a poem for him ... 

“Maybe she’ll settle for me, considering he prefers you.”

“She’s a woman.” And Ori liked children. He wouldn’t pass up on the opportunity to have children of his own.


	3. Chapter 3

A while later, Tess returned, alone. She walked up to Bofur and handed him a stone. 

“Oh. This is ...” Bofur grinned as he turned the stone around in his hand. “You’re still into me, then?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked. 

“You left with Ori”, Dwalin stated. Not, that it had to mean anything, it usually didn’t, but just after Ori got a courting gift ...

“Oh, so you can talk?” She replied sharply. “I wonder why you didn’t say something to Ori, then. He was quite upset.”

“Upset?” Why would Ori be upset? 

“He thought you had given him his gift back. Which, he informed me, is considered quite rude.”

Dwalin felt as if a battleaxe had hit him in the chest. “How could I?”

“You tell me.”

“He doesn’t believe it anymore? So that’s settled then?” Bofur asked before things could get more awkward. 

“He took a look at it just now”, Tess explained. “But it was inconsiderate, closing his hand over it, so he couldn’t see.”

“’Tis private”, Dwalin mumbled. “I’m not as brave as him, alright? Wouldn’t want to witness his reaction, in public, no less.” Not that he had dared to look at Ori’s face, anyway. 

“You could have waited until later.” Tess stated. “Where did you get a stone so fast, anyway?”

“That’s none of your business!” Dwalin left, before she could ask any more questions. 

The guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders. He hadn’t even considered that. Returning a courting gift was ... just not done. How could Ori believe that of him? The only cases where someone had done this, for all Dwalin could remember, were such where it had turned out that the giver of the courting gift was a rapist, or a kinslayer, or something disgusting like that. 

Was there something he didn’t know about Ori? No, that was impossible. 

 

Ori didn’t return to the hall before it was time for Dwalin to go to bed. 

In the morning, Dwalin breakfasted early and alone, then went to train with his weapons. It was the only thing he had to do, and it was his duty to keep himself in shape in case they were attacked. 

When he was finished he was sweaty and very much hoping Ori wouldn’t be up yet. 

Just after he had finished that thought, Ori walked round the edge of the corridor. And right towards Dwalin. Who felt even more sweaty and stinking. On the road, that hadn’t been a problem, none of them had had opportunity to wash often. But now ... 

“Um. Here?” Ori offered a beautiful specimen of granite. “Not, of course, as pretty as the one you gave me, but ... I hope you might like it?”

Dwalin took it, with trembling fingers. What to say? He couldn’t speak. So he just touched the stone to his lips before carefully putting it away. 

Ori stared at him. Smiled. “So ... you do like me?”

As if that was even the question! “Naturally”, Dwalin managed to mumble. 

“I ... I would never ... I am so honoured! Would you ... it it is no inconvenience ... maybe ... go for a walk with me?”

“Aye.” 

 

Dwalin excused himself to go to the bathroom and wash himself properly before donning his best clothes. 

It was almost time for the other dwarves to get up and breakfast when he met Ori at the gates. The air was still cool, but already warming in the sun. Dwalin nodded at Ori, Ori nodded, too, and they set off together. 

During the walk, Dwalin slowly found his words again. “I apologize for yesterday. It was ... unexpected, and I reacted poorly. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I.Um. That sounds stupid. But I didn’t know it was considered acceptable. To court another male.” Ori explained. “I mean, I know it was in the past, but customs change, and I got the impression that ... well ... and you never showed me that ...”

“I am not good with words”, Dwalin admitted. “Just a fighter.” He was stunned. How could Ori have thought it was not acceptable? Though maybe it made sense ... the scribe didn’t seem to live wholly in the present, and maybe he was self-aware about that, didn’t want to blunder. A wisdom seldom found in dwarves as young as Ori. 

“The finest of our warriors”, Ori replied. 

The words warmed Dwalin from within. “Doesn’t change the fact that I cannot make things, only destroy them.” Which was a disgrace. Sure, he would help out a smith with the hammering, if brute force was needed, but it was not in him to truly create. 

“You can protect what others have made.” Ori’s smile was like the gleam of the Arkenstone. 

“Aye. That I can.”


	4. Chapter 4

Their courtship continued, more smoothly than it had begun. Ori felt a happiness he had never thought possible before.   
Learning more about Dwalin made him fall in love all over again. He had suspected, of course, that the great warrior had a taste for art, from the pictures on his head. Still, to hear them described in Dwalin’s own voice ...

Bigger and more precious stones were exchanged, more time was spent together, and one day, Ori felt brave enough to give Dwalin one of the many poems he had written about him. 

“That is ...” Dwalin cleared his throat. “Lovely. I cannot give you anything half as good as that.”

“Well.” Ori mumbled. “I don’t expect ... You already showed me your art by protecting us all during the journey.”

“That was no courting gift.”

Ori had heard the apology in Dwalin’s voice. Even so, he had not expected Dwalin to try and make up for it. 

Therefore, the request that he come and see Dwalin spar with Thorin was quite a surprise. 

Ori happily made his way to the sparring hall. He was greeted by Kíli, who was already sitting on one of the elevated benches for spectators. “It will be quite a spectacle”, Kíli promised. “Uncle asked me to come witness it in case something goes wrong. It’s a bit silly, it’s not as if uncle is in any danger, but you’d better keep an eye on Dwalin.”

That made Ori chuckle – keeping an eye on Dwalin, or rather, both eyes, was exactly what he had been invited for, after all. 

Thorin entered the hall in full armour, his hair and beard braided as befit his station. 

Following him was Dwalin – who wore only trousers, weapons, and nothing else. His broad chest was full of the same coloured ink drawings that adorned his head. 

Ori blushed. It had always been a secret wish of his to see Dwalin naked in a situation where it was appropriate to look. Bathing in the river was no such occasion. A sparring fight was. 

“Showoff”, Kíli mumbled. “Uncle will have to hold back to not hurt him.” He looked at Ori. “Like what you see, eh?”

That made Ori’s face get even hotter. “The pictures on his skin are beautiful.”

“Of course. The pictures.” Kíli sniggered. 

He fell silent when the fight begun. Thorin did not need to hold back. Ori often held his breath, but Dwalin blocked any and all attacks aimed at him. 

Without clothes, it was much more obvious how graceful Dwalin moved. And then there was the way the sweat glistened on his muscles ... oh yes. This warranted a poem. 

Dwalin blocked another attack, made Thorin stumble with his counter-attack, and winked at Ori.   
Fighting being what it was, there was heavy breathing. And the occasional groan. Which were fighting noises, Ori reminded himself. 

As the fight continued, Ori regretted to not have brought his notebook. Not to write anything down, though, rather to have something to hold on his lap. He needed something to cover the bulge there. Urgently. 

 

After the fight had ended, (Dwalin won, but Ori wouldn’t have expected any different) Dwalin just nodded at Ori. “Need to wash”, he explained, and left. Thorin, likewise, excused himself. When the two had left, Ori remained sitting, hands in his lap, and legs in an uncomfortable position, to hide as much as possible. He would wait a while before he stood up. 

Kíli grinned at him. “Looks like Dwalin accomplished his purpose.”

“Um.” If only he had taken his notebook with him! 

“If he fucks like he fights, you’ll be unable to walk or sit for three days after the wedding night”, Kíli mused. 

“Why would I be unable to sit down?” Ori frowned. Certainly, making love with Dwalin might be exhausting, but certainly nothing a good night’s sleep wouldn’t cure. 

“Well, as he’s the older and bigger one of you, he’ll want to take you.”

“Take me?”

The following explanation helped Ori get rid of the embarrassing bulge in his garment. It also, he assumed, cured his blush. He felt as if he was pale as snow. “And ... it hurts every time?”, he asked with trembling voice. 

“I guess you get used to it”, Kíli replied cheerfully. “Or maybe not. You’ll see.”

Before Kíli’s explanation, Ori had secretly hoped for Dwalin to intiate more than chaste kisses, but now, he felt relief that Dwalin didn’t seem to desire more than that.


	5. Chapter 5

After Bofur’s engagement, people began to ask questions about when the next wedding was to take place, and Ori felt he had to bring the topic up with Dwalin. 

“What do you think of marriage?”, he asked cautiously when they were seated next to each other in the hall. 

“I think it very desirable.” Dwalin smiled. 

“So ... you would ...”

“Accept your proposal? Aye.”

From his previous research, Ori knew that male-to-male weddings were somewhat less complicated than female-to-male. As no one could bear children, it was mostly about making their love official and having a celebration. 

He would have spared Dwalin the public exchange of vows, but Dwalin insisted. “Must be done properly”, he said. “It is about time I show some courage.”

And he did. He spoke quietly, but clearly, and his voice faltered not once. Ori was incredibly proud of his husband. 

During the celebrations, Dwalin recovered from the stress of speaking in front of a large group, while Ori grew more and more nervous. 

“Anything wrong with you?”, Dwalin inquired after a while. 

“No. Just a bit nervous. You know. I have no ... experience.”

Dwalin nodded. “We don’t have to have sex.”

“I want to.” Ori straightened his back. “Can we do it now? I’ll only get more nervous otherwise.” He would do all that was necessary to pleasure his beloved Dwalin. 

“’Course.”

As they entered Dwalin’s room, he said to Ori “No need to be nervous. You know I’ve always considered you the woman in our relationship.”  
Ori’s gaze fell on the big bed in the middle of the room. He nodded, but felt unable to say anything. 

Dwalin closed the door behind them. “I suppose”, he said. “You want me naked?”

“Yes”, Ori whispered. 

“Thought so ...” Dwalin’s voice was deep with desire. 

Hurriedly, Ori stripped off his own clothes. The sooner he got this done, the less time he would have to spend afraid of what would happen. It couldn’t be all that bad. Kíli didn’t know Dwalin like he did. Dwalin would be very gentle, he was sure. 

Dwalin’s naked body was almost enough to distract him from what was to come ... but only almost, and so Ori sat on the edge of the bed, his hands sweaty with fear. Dwalin’s sex was not as big as Kíli had made him believe it might be, but erect, it still was ... daunting. 

Once again Ori admired Dwalin’s graceful movements as he walked to the bed. Then, with one, swift movement, he knelt down in front of Ori. “What can I do for you?”

“Um.” Ori looked down. “I would ... would like to get a good look at your tattoos, if that is alright with you?” That was what he had hoped for in his wedding night before Kíli had explained things to him. 

“It is. You’ll have the best view if I lie down.”

“Oh. Yes.”

Dwalin took that as invitation to move onto the bed so fast that Ori hardly knew what was happening before Dwalin lay there, spread out for him to admire. 

Ori stared at the beautiful view in front of him and moved a trembling hand. “May I touch?”

“’Course.” Dwalin closed his eyes, as Ori ran his fingers along the lines of ink. As he lost himself in the beauty of what looked like pictures of everything Dwalin held dear, his heartbeat calmed a bit. 

“Most of those are from the time when we were wandering”, Dwalin murmured. “We had no parchment to speak of, yet I was thirsty for art. I could never create art, but I could give it a place to stay.”

“They are lovely”, Ori breathed. “You are lovely. I could just sit here and look at you all night.”

“Aye. Sounds like a plan.”

“Are you joking?” Ori asked uncertainly. 

“Just a bit. I might fall asleep. It was a long day.” Dwalin opened his eyes. “You are still nervous.”

“I’m alright.”  
“Good.” Dwalin looked at him so intensely that Ori felt the heat on his skin. “You can touch me everywhere you want, you know?”

“Y ... yes.” It was no use. If it didn’t happen now, he would die from anxiety. He crouched over Dwalin, placed his legs on both sides of Dwalin’s hips ...

“What are you doing?”

Ori froze. “Um ... sex? That’s what it’s about, isn’t it?”

“You don’t seem to enjoy it much.” Now, the intense gaze was directed at Ori’s middle. 

“But you will! Um. Kíli told me you would take great pleasure from it. And I wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.” Some of it might be lies, but he had also heard rumours and dirty jokes in Laketown and other towns of men, whenever his brothers hadn’t be there to hurriedly cover his ears. 

“The little bugger! Bet he did”, Dwalin growled. “I have a mind to tell Dís all about it.”

Dís? “Please don’t! That would be so embarrassing!” Ori pleaded. “So ... he lied?”

“Aye. Come here, sit on my belly.” 

Ori did so, and relaxed a bit. If Kíli had just been pulling his leg, it might not be so bad after all. 

“I can’t for the life of me fathom how you’d be unable to walk after this”, Dwalin explained. “Told you, you’re the wife in this relationship.”

“Yes ... Kíli said you would want to ... take me.” He repeated some of the more graphic descriptions. 

“I’ll give that bugger a talking-to he won’t forget”, Dwalin grumbled. Ori could feel the vibrations in his body ... a very pleasant sensation. 

“So ... that’s all lies?”

“Aye.” Dwalin looked up into his eyes. “I don’t know where he gets that rubbish. Though I also don’t get why you would believe it ... you are so well-read.”

“The books are rather ... silent about this specific topic ...” Not that he hadn’t looked for it. 

“You wrote our wedding vows, though. What did you think ‘Bring joy and give pleasure’ means?” 

“I thought that was ... more ... general.” It was commonly mentioned in wedding vows, and he had liked the sound of it. Being with Dwalin did make him very happy indeed! 

“It is. Very general. Refers to everything.” Dwalin sighed. “Beloved ... how could you believe I would ever hurt you? I said I see you as my wife, and I am serious. I am here to pleasure you. The only thing you have to do is teach me how.”

“Kíli seemed so ... so certain!” Now, he couldn’t understand how he had ever believed that, either.

“I bet he did. Now, I ask you again: What would you have me do for your pleasure?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so there's no misunderstandings ... in this story, (however it may be in canon, the ages confuse me) Ori is an adult and has been for some time. Think the equivalent of a man in his early or mid- twenties. His brothers are just a bit overprotective ... and those things he shouldn't have heard were things his brothers consider so awful they'd rather never have heard them themselves.  
> They do not approve of the way Men view those things. (Speaking of which, it is awfully inconvenient that there's no English synonym for "human" that sounds a bit more old-timey and isn't synonymous with "male")


	6. Chapter 6

A hot shiver ran through Ori’s body. Something fluttered in his stomach. “Just ... touch me? The way you would touch yourself?” That was what he had originally imagined. And very much desired. 

“That’s a lot better.” Dwalin licked his lips as he looked at Ori’s now half-erect sex. “Aye, I will do just that. Are your nipples very sensitive?”

“I don’t know ... um ... just try?” 

Dwalin’s touch was nothing like what he had done in the privacy of his bed. The big hands caressed his shoulders, circled his nipples, and Ori bit his lip as calloused fingers rubbed over his nipples. 

“You alright?” Dwalin asked. 

Ori nodded. “Just ... so ... good.”

Dwalins hands wandered downwards on his body, exploring every inch of skin on their way. Finally, taking a look at the erection that had grown during his explorations, Dwalin gave an approving grunt. 

Ori had not expected the strokes to be so slow. He had always done it hasty and as silent as possible, especially in his bedroll when they were on the road. 

Dwalin was in no hurry at all. His lazy caresses were only interrupted by questions of “How do you like that?” and “Should I do this again?”, driving Ori near insane with their slowness. 

Ori relaxed, and when he felt the pressure of an erection against his backside, he reveled in the sensation instead of fearing it. 

“I want to touch you, too”, he murmured. 

“Soon. Just let me finish here.” 

Despite all practice in being silent, Ori moaned softly as he climaxed. “And it will always be like this?” he asked. “Every night?” He was so relieved, he almost laughed. 

“Aye. Whenever you wish.” 

He rolled to the side, happily rested his head on one of Dwalin’s massive shoulders, and trailed his hand downwards over the many pictures. “You have no pictures down there”, he murmured, pointing out the area under the bellybutton. 

“I was saving that for you.” 

“Oh.” He wrapped his hand around the erection that no longer scared him. For inside his body, it was too big. For inside his hand, it was just the right size. Saved for him ... the thought pleased him. “But ... most of those pictures must be older than ...”

“Aye. I was saving it for my future husband back then. Wouldn’t have been comfortable with anyone else doing a tattoo there, to be honest - it’s awfully close to my privates.” 

“I’m not sure I could do that ...” Ori mused. “I only ever painted on parchment and paper.”

Dwalin smiled and pushed into his hand. “Saved for you to touch, then.”

“You ... you weren’t with anyone else?” Ori asked, confused. 

“Nah. Never thought it worth the effort before.”

 

Ori never had considered himself a vain dwarf, but the thought that he alone had been worth the effort to Dwalin warmed him from within. “You know so much, though.” 

“Aye.” Dwalin spread his legs as if to grant easier access. “I know what tradition says about pleasuring one’s spouse. I like to honour our ancient customs. A bit firmer, if you please? I’m though.” 

Dwalin had not learnt to be quiet, or he didn’t want to. He moaned and gasped as he came apart under Ori’s clumsy touches. 

“So ... “ Ori asked reluctantly when they were cuddled together. “You consider me your wife?”

“Aye, in a way. Kíli seems to have told you lots of nonsense about that. To intentionally hurt a woman is sacrilege. As I am sure you know.”

“Yes ...” He had always found solace in the ancient texts, which seemed to describe a culture so unlike the hurry and daily hassle he was used to. And somehow, he had considered them a whole different world. 

“Only men would do that. That cruel imitation of the act of begetting children you described ... not quite as bad, maybe, as hurting an actual woman, but nevertheless ... no self-respecing dwarf would ever ...”

“I should have known.” He really should have. “It’s just ... Kíli made it sound as if it is the greatest thing ever for ... well ... the husband.” And men saw such things differently, somehow. 

“Causing you pain would be a stain on my honour, nothing else.” Dwalin hugged him with his muscular arms. “The pain of giving birth is the only one I would ever cause my wife, and only on her request. Which is why I am glad you can give birth to your poems without any of that.”

Ori chuckled. “I sometimes do get an headache”, he admitted. “When a poem is particularly frustrating.”

“And I will do everything in my power to ease that pain, my love.” 

 

The next morning, Ori woke up alone. He found his clothes, neatly folded on Dwalin’s side of the bed. Which was a nice gesture, but not half as nice as if Dwalin had stayed. Was it really necessary to exercise at the same hour every day?

He had just dressed himself and was on his way to the hall when he heard a scream. “Mamaaa!”

That would be Kíli. And he sounded as if he was in deadly danger. Ori started running, but when he came to the hall, all he found was a circle of very amused dwarves, and Kíli, who was being held up by his collar by Dwalin. 

“Let him go!” Dear Maker, this was so embarrassing! 

Dwalin lowered Kíli to his feet. “No worries, he knows I have reason to be angry. Is that right, Prince Kíli?”

“Y... yes, Lord Dwalin. Sorry. Won’t happen again!”

“I should hope so. And you won’t tell anyone, either. For your own good.”

While Kíli scurried off, Thorin stepped closer, and patted Dwalin on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t allow a lesser dwarf to discipline my sister-son, but I trust you had good reason, old friend?”

“Aye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While societies without any gender roles at all are interesting, I decided to have gender roles for dwarves for the purpose of this story.   
> Creating new life is a thing only female dwarves can do, therefore, creating anything at all is considered a feminine trait. (I haven't figured out how Mahal being male fits into this. Though maybe there's some sort of confusion about that amongst elves and men, and the dwarves actually consider their Maker to be female, because that's more logical?)  
> As their society doesn't oppress women, male dwarves don't seek to distance themselves from everything "feminine", but rather seek to achieve at least some femininity. That is one of the reasons why Dwalin didn't approach Ori before; in my headcanon for this story, his self-esteem is not very good as he failed to become good at anything other than fighting. He doesn't let it show, and in the dangerous times after Smaug attacked, his skill at protecting his fellow dwarves was highly in demand - but he is old enough to remember the time when this was not the case. 
> 
> Ori is young, and spent enough time amongst humans to have ingested some of the misogyny, so he initially feared that being considered the "wife" would mean he has lower status and is expected to suffer for his spouse's pleasure. While for Dwalin it means that Ori is the one with the higher status, and the one who is in charge of their physical intimacy. (This being part of the same universe the "Dwarves are all about consent" stories take place in, they're technically both in charge, but it's usually the woman who initiates.)


End file.
